Angry Love
by Feygan
Summary: Another mortal dares to say that she's more beautiful than Aphrodite.


Title: Angry Love  
Author: Feygan  
Completion Date: 4-29-03  
Fandom: Xena/Hercules  
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, I just borrowed them a little.

Staring into the scrying glass, Aphrodite slowly ground her teeth together in silent rage. Her eyes wanted to squeeze into tight little slits and her fingers were curling into claws. She wanted desperately to hurt something or someone.

"_She's so beautiful, like a Goddess_."

"_Yes, she's much more beautiful than Aphrodite, and she's right here for us to worship._"

"_Who needs Gods and Goddesses when we have someone like_ her _right here with us?_"

"_She should be the Goddess of Love and Beauty. Who needs old Aphrodite?_"

That was it. Aphrodite flung the mirror across the room as hard as she could, the sound of it shattering bringing a fierce satisfaction to her heart. That was exactly what she was going to do to that mortal. _Break her_.

"CUPID!" she yelled, lashing out with her power.

He appeared instantly, naked and with a still hard erection, the head of his cock gleaming with more than pre-come. "Yeah Mom, way to yell. Strife and I were right in the middle of…" He stopped when he saw the look of rage on her face. A barely perceptible tremble went through him and his cock went limp. "Whoa. What is it? What's happened?" he asked.

Very few people--mortal or gods--had ever seen the Goddess of Love truly angry. Sure, they'd felt the affects of her irritation with them, but she'd never been truly angry. And all the playfulness was gone, taking the joyful bubble-head with it. Now she was in full furious Goddess mode, and it wasn't pretty.

She fairly crackled with power and her eyes had gone dark, whirling with hidden storm clouds. Her hair whipped around her shoulders in almost wet-looking tendrils, writhing like snakes, waiting to strangle anyone that got too close. Her face was a mask of inhuman beauty, the Goddess shining so completely through that any mortal that saw her would have been instantly incinerated. She was beautiful and terrible, embodying all of the darkness that could be love.

Aphrodite raised her hand and a mirror appeared in it. "The people in this town have turned their backs on the Goddess Aphrodite, so therefore, I turn my back on them." An image of the town wavered and swam up to the surface of the mirror. "See how they live without the touch of Love and Beauty. As they worship another, all that they cherish will wither and _die_ without my blessing."

She shook the mirror and the image changed to show a beautiful, dark haired girl sitting on a hillside, surrounded by wildflowers. There was a lovely woven crown of purple blossoms around her head.

The girl was laughing and talking with her friends. "_Everyone says I'm so pretty_ I _should be the Goddess of Love. Aphrodite's all old and stuff. People should just worship me_." Her friends gasped at the scandalous blasphemy, but giggled along with her, a couple of them nodding their agreement. She really was beautiful, and none of them had ever seen the Goddess in real life.

The mirror flew through the air to impact with the wall, the broken pieces falling to mix with the remnants of the last mirror.

"Cupid, you will kill her. It can be fast and clean, but she _will_ die. Do you understand me?" Aphrodite looked at her son with blazing eyes. She was so close to the edge it could almost be tasted on the air.

Cupid swallowed hard and bobbed his head in a nod. "Yes, she will die."

"No mistakes, Cupid. No falling on your arrows. No blessed marriage and immortality for her. She dies today, whether by your hand or mine. And if I have to go down there and do it myself, she will not be the last to lose her life."

"Yes Mother." Cupid flashed out in a twinkle of muted sparkles. He was only glad to get away from her unscathed. He had never seen her like that, and never wanted to again.

Aphrodite leaned back on her throne, clasping her hands beneath her chin. The air of rage still hung around her, but she was carefully holding it in check. She had had centuries to learn how to control the darker aspects of her temper. Because though no one wanted to get on the bad side of love, it would have been hard to hold their worship if they ever saw how truly terrible she could be.

If anyone had seen her then, the family resemblance to the House of War would have been readily apparent. She looked dangerous, truly someone not to be crossed. There was very little of the more familiar Aphrodite to her right then, and her little brother Hercules would not have recognized her. He had only ever seen the fluffiness, not the blade within.

Love and hate are two sides of the same coin, and sometimes they melt together into one. The passions of jealousy and rage bubble up from the frothiness like unexpected guests, but they are always hidden just beneath the surface of every romance, waiting for that spark to ignite them.

Fully embodying her Godhood, Aphrodite held as much ugliness within her as she did beauty. Because without the smooth edge of everyday ugliness, how could anyone recognize the sharper edges of beauty peeking through?

She was passion and grace, lust and glory wrapped together in a gauzy pink dress, but there was hardness in her too, that something that allowed her to survive the unruly emotions of mortals and the ferocity of the other gods.

Beautiful and dangerous, as strong as she appeared fragile, with the power she held she could break the very Earth. Because without love and beauty there could be no war, no anger, no growth, no aspiration for anything better, because everything would be in thin shades of gray. No one would ever claw there way out of the darkness and into the light because the light itself would not exist.

She was powerful, but few ever saw her like that. They looked at her and only knew foolish, beautiful Love. She hid her darkness, but it was always there, always waiting, and she used it more often than anyone would ever suspect. In every relationship she put together, bubbling beneath the surface was her hatred, making everything sweeter even as no one knew it was even there.

.

=THE END=


End file.
